Bon.  No scrupulous penitent, timerous that each thought
Should be a sinn, does to the priest lay ope
With halfe that verity his troubled soule
That I doe mine.  I love you:  in that word
Include all ceremony.  No sooner had
Your information disingagd my heart
Of honoring your daughter, but amazd
At the immensnesse of the benefit
Your goodness had cast on me, I resolvd
This way to show my gratitude.

Lady.  But dare you, Knowing the daughter vicious, entertaine Affection to the mother?

Bon.  Dare I when
I have bin long opresd with a disease,
Wish pleasing health? theres vertue enough here
To excite beleife in Moores that only women
Have heavenly soules.

Lady.  This is admirable: 
Did my intention tend to love, as soone
I should embrace your motion in that kind
As any others, wert but to afford
Some small lustracon for the wrong my daughter
Intended you; nay, to confesse my thought,
I feele a strong propension in my selfe
To yeild to you; but I am loath,[95]—­your youth
Will quickly loath me.

    Enter Y[oung] Marlowe and Thurston.

Mar.  Madam, this Gent[leman]
Desires to have you know him for your son: 
Tis he my sister Clariana, with your licence,
Wishes for husband.

Lady.  A proper Gent[leman]; Ime happy she has made
So iuditious an election.[96]
You are very welcome, sir:  conduct him in, Sonn.

[Exeunt Young Marlowe and Thurston.

Bon.  Persuade me I can hate
Sleepe after tedious watching, or reiect
The wholesome ayre when I’ve bin long choakd up
With sicklie foggs:  sooner shall—­

Lady.  Desist from protestations, or employ them
Mong those who have no more discretion
Then to beleive them.

Bon.  How, Lady?

Lady.  You can in Justice now no more appeach Our mutabillities, since you have provd So manifestly [in]constant.

Bon.  These are arts Orewhelme my dull capacity with horror:  Inconstant!

Lady.  Are the light faines erected on the tops
Of lofty structures stedfast, which each wind
Rules with its motion? credulous man, I thought
My daughters reall vertues had inspired thee
With so much confidence as not to loose
The estimation of her honor for
My bare assertion, without questioning
The time or any the least circumstance
That might confirm’t.  I did but this to try
Your constancy:  farewell. [Exit.

Bon.  What witch had duld my sense
That such a stuped Lethurgie should sease
My intellectuall faculties they could not
Perceive this drift!  If she be virtuous,
As no man but an heretick to truth
Would have imagind, how shall I excuse
My slanderous malice? my old fire renewes
And in an instant with its scortching flames
Burnes all suspicon up.